


until your feet are back on the ground

by plinys



Series: ABC Fic Challenge [3]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Claustrophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3649650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy and Harry get trapped together in a broken elevator, and things don't end up like a porno.</p>
            </blockquote>





	until your feet are back on the ground

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't remember whose hc it was, but a while back I saw a post on tumblr about Eggsy being afraid of small spaces cause of past abuse as a kid. And since the word for my abc challenge this week was 'claustrophobia,' this felt fitting.

There’s this idea that the media shows, that getting trapped in an elevator with somebody you want to shag is supposed to be this final pushing point.

That one second they’ll go from realizing it has stopped, to having mind blowing elevator sex.

The kind of elevator sex that cheap pornos were made out of.

His reaction to finding out that he’s trapped in an elevator with Harry is a bit _different_.

And really it’s no fault of Harry’s, this could have happened with anybody – hell, it probably would have happened if he were alone – it was just made significantly worse by the fact that Harry was around to witness the whole thing.

Eggsy barely realized he was hyperventilating, until he feels the hand at his shoulder, and hears the worried question, “everything all right?”

“No, no it’s bloody not.”

“I thought not,” Harry responds a second later, still not removing his hand, “would it be easier if you sat down?”

He’s not sure, never actually having been caught in a situation quite like this one before.

He’s never been good with closed spaces, not since he was a kid.

And elevators were bad, sure- but he normally was never in them long enough to think about being trapped in them, about the likelihood of the wire snapping and plummeting to his death, or the air slowly running out until he’s-

“Eggsy, I’m going to count to seven and you’re going to breathe with me, understood?”

He closes his eyes, but follows the consistent counting, letting the air in and out of his lungs with each count of Harry’s, until he doesn’t feel like there’s not enough air in the room anymore.

Eventually he even finds himself on the floor of the elevator, head pressed against the cold metal, as he does his best to keep the panic at bay.

Harry’s hand never moves from his shoulder.

It’s only once he comes back to himself that he really becomes aware of that though, moving his own hand up to brush Harry away, but stopping at their fingers touch.

“I’m fine,” he insists, even though he barely feels that way, “just give me a sec, yeah?”

There’s silence this time, but Harry’s hand does finally move away, and it’s at least something.

He’s not sure why he feels the need to fill the silence.

After all, Eggsy knows that Harry wouldn’t push the topic. He’d let it die until later, then bring it up in a purely professional setting. Probably ask if he needs his fear written on the official documents or not, in the posh all-business tone that he’s often adopted as the new Arthur.

At the same time, he feels like he owes him this much, and explanation for however long they’re stuck here.

He starts slowly, “when I was little, after my dad, you know,” Eggsy explains, “and Dean came into the picture, he used to lock me in the closets, so I was out of the way.”

“Eggsy-“

“It was fucked up -so fucking wrong,” he leans forward to rest his head against the knees that he had drawn up to his chest instinctively, “and I know that this ain’t the same thing, I know that in my head, but it feels a bit like the same.”

He doesn’t dare look up now, just imagining the look of pity on Harry’s face is bad enough.

“I’m never this bad, I swear,” Eggsy insists, because for a second he has this horrible thought of them pulling him from the field indefinitely, kicking him out of Kingsman, because of his stupid childhood fear, “I don’t know what came over me. I’ll get over it in a sec, I promise.”

Out of all the things he’s expecting Harry to say “snakes” is not one of them

“Wait, what?”

This time he does look up, and at least Harry’s expression isn’t pity or disgust, but it’s still a confused one, so open and sincere that Eggsy almost wants to look away again.

“I’m afraid of snakes.”

“Oh, uh, good for you?”

That gets him a quiet chuckle in reply, before Harry continues speaking, “I was on a mission in Peru once, lovely place, excellent weather this time of year. Did you know there are over two hundred species of snakes which call Peru their home?”

Eggsy shakes his head.

“Neither did I at the time,” he continues, “It was one of my first missions as a Kingsman, and I had infiltrated this building with ties to a very important militia group that we had been working to undermine, for classified reasons, of course.”

“Of course,” Eggsy echoes.

“It was all going well, and I would have made it away with the necessary information, without being noticed, had it not been for something I noticed as I was making my escape,” Harry explains, and Eggsy can picture it well enough a young Harry Hart dashing away only to stop in place at the sight of some giant rattlesnake.

“Was it huge?”

“I honestly wish I had that as an excuse,” he admits, “but it was rather petite, something I could have stepped over easily had I not been struck by fear at the sight of it.”

“How’d you manage it then?”

“I blew the building up with my hand grenade and jumped out of a third story window.”

“The fuck?”

“Admittedly there were a good number of people rather cross with me.”

There’s something about the way he says it, so simple and matter of fact, that has Eggsy cracking a small smile.

“Yeah, I bet.”

“My next three missions they wouldn’t even let me take a grenade, for safety reasons or some nonsense,” Harry explains, looking slightly peeved by the notion, “but the point that I’m trying to make Eggsy is that we’re all afraid of something.”

“But that I shouldn’t let my fear control me,” Eggsy fills in, guessing how this little lesson is going to end.

“Oh no, I was going to say, that I just hope that your solution doesn’t involve a minor explosion. Given the circumstances we’d probably end up falling to ground and I don’t particularly fancy trying to see if I can cheat death twice.”

Eggsy’s not sure why he laughs at that, but he does – it’s just something about Harry that makes these sorts of things easier to deal with.

He makes everything easier to deal with.

“Really though, Harry, how much of that story is rubbish?”

“I promise all of it is one hundred percent true. You can ask Merlin when we get back, if you’d like? Though I’d prefer if you did it when I was not around, our quartermaster is able to hold a grudge for a remarkably long time. I’m still not allowed to go on solo missions to Peru, and it’s been over twenty years now.”

“You ever get over that fear of yours?”

“Ah, not yet, but I’ll let you know if I ever manage it.”


End file.
